


Those scattered remnants

by hazk



Series: Surviving Students: Fifteen [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Canon Compliant, Death, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2018-12-16 15:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazk/pseuds/hazk
Summary: The most tragic event in human history, driven on by despair, and scenes showing a couple of teenagers being very good at their jobs.





	1. Rebuilding breakdown

**Author's Note:**

> Starts around the same time as DR1 (using what DR3 and UDG showed), with the events then leading up to the second game. The other part, "What always will be", goes through post-SDR2/recovery.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The longer they waited, the better it would be – the impact heightened by time and denial.

When the Tragedy first began, the newly turned Remnants of Despair were in a hurry to get as far away from Hope’s Peak as possible.

For them, it all began with silence.

They were confused, not quite sure what needed to be done to match the expectations of Enoshima, but even more than that they were excited to see how it would all go down. Infected by despair, they were filled with glee to share their newfound devotion with the world – no blood was to be spared for the grandest of results.

But they were told to wait, just for a little while longer; and that’s what they did.

The short time before setting their plans into full motion they spend watching, learning and adapting. When they finally attacked, it was meant to have even bigger of an impact than if they had done so right away when everything had been only just getting started.

The Remnants felt the need to prove they still possessed the capability for rational thought. Although that wasn’t exactly true…

What they needed to learn to use was closer to the very opposite of rationality; careful planning based on nothing but the swirling chaos that had completely overtaken their minds.

 

* * *

 

To some, seeking refuge was easy.

The most important part of their becoming was to keep the world believing that they really had died when the Tragedy began, only to reappear later as the soiled remains of Hope that they now were. That is why, for a while, they couldn’t exactly crawl back home and pretend nothing had changed.

There was despair in their families’ belief that they were dead, just like there was to their soon following realisation that they never actually had been.

When the time came, the Remnants would reappear only to replace their loved ones' relieved tears with a despair even greater than the one of losing a child could bring you. Being killed by your child, upon their return and after the initial spark of hope that would create, was something the Remnants, with who it still had been a possibility, were beyond eager to see for themselves.

The longer they waited, the better it would be – the impact heightened by time and denial. Enoshima Junko had taught them an important lesson there, with the way she was similarly waiting for her time to strike from within the Academy.

But there was an exception to this rule.

To one of them, it had been more advantageous, with the idea of an even more despair-filled future in mind, to go up to their family and beg for them to hide them away.

If you were a royalty, telling your family a story of a School you had been accepted in only to witness the devastation that had soon followed, your loved ones would be more than happy to take you in without letting the rest of the world know that you had survived. Surviving meant questions, explanations and having to face the reality where all this had first began – it meant having to address the Tragedy and the fears of a world that could never quite understand just what had led to it.

For a princess of a small kingdom, it was so very easy to seek refuge from a castle while her family protected her from anyone trying to seek for those answers in a way that could endanger her peace of mind.

No one needed to know that she no longer was the Sonia Nevermind they had once sent off to Hope’s Peak with gentle smiles on their faces. No one cared anyway, relieved as they were to have her back. 

Sonia's family was overly understanding of how the terrifying experience might have changed her to be the way she now was.

 

* * *

 

Sonia found herself with the resources and freedom to provide to some of the other Remnants, in the time it took for them to wait for their own opportunities to strike.

With the world falling into chaos at a steady pace, more and more tragedies driving entire nations into drastic methods, it became a simple thing for the Kingdom of Novoselic to close its borders and begin to defend the “normalcy” of their lifestyle to the best of their ability.

In the following confusion and fear, Sonia helped two of her classmates get what they needed to prepare.

With Sonia’s help, Souda Kazuichi was able to get his hands on containers full of components and material for him to begin building an army, similarly to how Tanaka Gundam used the space given to him by the Princess to train his own.

Two armies, one mechanical and another the very opposite of that, were growing steadily as the first months of the Tragedy began to pass. Sonia herself was not taking a break either as she moved on to play her role.

As it was made clear that the world-wide impact of the Tragedy wasn’t just going to end, and once Novoselic’s borders had been closed for good, Sonia no longer had a reason to hide away. She appeared above her citizens as the Princess everyone had grieved and to whom they had already sworn their devotion to, to defend themselves and their kingdom against the spreading despair.

The hope of seeing her alive truly was a twisted thing.

Sonia Nevermind’s kind words were calm and powerful, her stories of the Tragedy not exactly lies. She drove those below her towards the realisation that instead of defence they needed to fight to protect their place in the world.

With sorrowful smiles and stories of true terror, Sonia hid the spark in her eyes as she prepared for the day she would have her own army consisting of the barely living.

 

* * *

 

While the other Remnants began to strike and spread their own devotion across the world with actions, one took to his role of simply studying the order falling apart.

A year after the Tragedy began, he watched as yet another rescue attempt to save Class 78th of Hope’s Peak Academy had apparently failed, the building having been made unapproachable well in advantage and all according to Enoshima’s plan.

The headmaster had been determined to keep the remaining students alive, and it had been easy to use the given resources to ensure nothing from the outside could endanger them. Even now that that their circumstances had changed to the very opposite end of the scale, the said defences ensured that there was no saving them from the outside either.

Only those inside the school could make it through the door, but Enoshima had made it impossible for them to even try breaking her rules. And Kamukura couldn’t be bothered to think any further on that, allowing her design to be what it was while he watched it from afar. 

What truly mattered was that Enoshima's plan had worked; one more among the many that had already brought the world this deep into despair. Those in hiding, having shut themselves away since it all had first began, were no longer able to doubt that the Tragedy had been real. 

There was no end in sight, it had only just begun. They knew now.

Through the eyes of these students who had no idea from what they had originally been protected from, the leftovers of the world had seen the futility of what it meant to be safe. And, as Kamukura continued watching the broadcast along with them in a way similar to how he continued to keep an eye on the Remnants Enoshima had let loose with something akin to curiosity, he found himself almost enjoying the results her plan had to offer to the world outside Hope’s Peak.

The world he had been released to – _by her_ , he thought in plain disdain – had been changed in a way he had no choice but to welcome, without having ever even seen the peace there had once been with his own eyes. He had known enough about it, though, to take the chance to witness what rewriting the information planted in his brain was able to provide.

It seemed like Enoshima might have been correct in telling him he wouldn't be satisfied with anything less; but the one question Kamukura had been left wondering ,since the tears he couldn't just forget, was just what kind of an ending to this chaos would actually be the most worthwhile.

She had been right about despair leading people to unexpected actions, similarly to how the Remnants were left to hone their Ultimate Talents for something they had never expected to use them for. They were the perfect example of the breakdown of an order that once was, and Kamukura would soon be shown just how far Enoshima’s infection could take those it had been growing in.

A year after the Tragedy of Hope’s Peak Academy, the true despair was about to start running its course.

But what he actually was interested in was something not going as Enoshima had intended, breaking through both of their expectations. The end of the world couldn't be this easy and if it went as smoothly as she had planned, Enoshima's victory would be a boring one too. 

Still, for now, it would be enough if only Kamukura could see behind the scenes of the Academy without having to have anything further to do with Enoshima herself - to fully appreciate the meticulous design that would go into making the killings happen the way they did.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I use “Ultimate Talents” simply because I'm physically incapable of using shortened terms. And Super High School Level is a pain.  
> \--  
> Mistakes are a thing, anything from ooc:ness and grammar to timeline. I’m running through this as I go, and don't have anyone to help me!


	2. Playing with the dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We don’t have the same standards.

“Do you think she’s dead?”

“That wasn’t Enoshima, how many times does it need to be said?!” Saionji snarled, glaring at Mioda who swayed back and forth on her seat. “How dimwitted can you get!”

“Just saying; _the blood looked very real_ ”, Mioda sang out her reply, grinning at the other girl almost playfully. She was attempting to annoy her, the days passing by in too dull of a rhythm without any conflict for them to exploit as they currently were, watching.

They were curious to see Enoshima’s plan come to life, of course, but it also meant they needed to wait for her to really get started with the finale before being able to go back to work. They couldn't let the newly created waves of hope and glorious despair die out even for a second or they would fail her.

The Remnants weren’t as coordinated as one might think they should be, and normally they didn’t keep in touch with their classmates unless they needed them to pull off their newest ideas. Although they found chaos to be the key, the idea of hitting the world all at once when it truly was at its weakest was exhilarating.

And soon they would have the chance for just that, meaning they had to be patient. Watching the broadcast was their signal.

The first trial at Hope's Peak had ended, Kuwata's execution having done its job to truly show everyone watching and playing how the game was going to go from here on out. Enoshima's “own” pierced body had also been cleaned from the scene.

A classic misconception, Koizumi had said when it had happened, her eyes darting from the screen at the sight of “Enoshima’s” death. 

For a moment, at the body having gone limb on the screen, everything they had heard were the screams of their current neighbours facing reality at the death of yet another teenager. No one could stop watching the killing game, hiding in their dingy rooms with the doors locked.

Since the Tragedy began, people had been creating communities based on the belief that together, these chosen few, could remain safe. But hope built on trust was pointless, and Maizono's plan to fool Naegi into being her scapegoat for the very first kill of the game had been an effective reminder of exactly that.

Students calling each other “friends” being killed no matter how many peaceful days and forced smiles passed them by were the perfect bait – not knowing the life outside of Hope's Peak wasn’t any different, _or certainly any better_ , from what they currently had. Witnessing it, the hidden leftovers of the outside world were crushed under the pressure, glancing at one another with the very same mistrust they were seeing on their screens.

Fear was building up, and the last attempts to construct something close to society were beginning to break apart.

_We don’t have the same standards._

Anyone around you could very well have hope in their hearts, but for something _more_ than keeping you by their side. No one was there to keep them in check.

“I can’t wait.”

Koizumi’s words cut through the sudden silence that had followed the confused, heartbroken yells that had surrounded them in the small apartment building they had moved to not that long ago. The other two girls barely glanced her way with their eyes wide and swirling, similar smiles to her's growing into grins as they focused back on the screen.

At Hope's Peak, their wide-eyed underclassmen were trying to put into words the death they had just witnessed, blood splattered all over their clothes.

“This scene could use some music to really hit it off”, Mioda hummed under her breath, thrumming her fingers along the edge of the wooden seat. “To really kick you in the feels~”

“Monokuma is childish, creepy… Ah, but I would really love to add to the narrative – make it something _sweet_ ”, Saionji chuckled, a sleeve covering her mouth as her wide grin and the offered gloom of the TV screen made her teeth appear almost sharp.

Their usual actions as Remnants were boisterous and loud in ways very different from what they were seeing now.

“And the view itself could use some work”, Koizumi added in, tilting her head. She covered a half of what she saw of the screen with her palm to better study it. “You are missing some excellent expressions of pure despair from this angle.”

“Oh, Enoshima should have asked you to really make record of this moment to the rest of the world! Photos catch the soul of the scene, they say! Posters sent to those in denial! We could finally free them all!” Mioda laughed, jumping in her seat as the excitement took over.

Saionji turned to her, almost thoughtful as she paused to take in the words. She lowered her sleeve and licked her lower lip.

“Big Sis Junko doesn’t need our help, but… We have the freedom to do whatever we want.” Saionji glanced at Koizumi who stood behind their seats, her arms crossed as the wails of one of their neighbours was heard through the door. "Seriously; I would love to try out something _a little different_ from what we usually do."

The man in the hallway was empathically crying over the death of a teenager he had once admired, a star of his sport as Kuwata Leon had been.

“I see”, Koizumi said in realisation as they listened to the cries fade away. She lifted a brow at Saionji, her smile timid although her eyes revealed just how eager she was to say what was on her mind:

“We have everything we need, right here with us.”

Mioda jumped to her feet, the idea hitting her like lightning and making her squeal in delight.

“Ibuki knows! Locked away from the rest of the world! Us, right in the middle! People everywhere! Locked up! Us! Just waiting to strike  _and bored!_ ”

Koizumi shushed Mioda, her smile widening as she automatically reached for her camera.

“We can do something in a smaller scale before the finale Enoshima has prepared. There is no reason to keep this specific communal around for that, is there? We can spread Enoshima's message while we wait, it won't do harm.”

Saionji couldn’t help but laugh viciously at that, childishly wiping her nose even if her more grown-up look didn’t quite match the image any more.

“There are dozens of people here, just how is this supposed to be _small?_ ”

Infecting the world had started small, there was no denying that, but those events had already taken place a year ago.

 

* * *

 

It began around the same time as Celeste had been executed, the pointless greed behind her actions hitting the communal and making the few of them still capable of tears once more grieve over the deceased children. But most were already long beyond that point, instead beginning to show cracks in their unity and the belief that they could have healed what little corner of the world they had been building for themselves.

These cracks were perfect for the Remnants to work with, Saionji starting off the plan by using her talent to cheer up those still stunned by her beautiful dance from days long gone. Mioda provided the music with a smirk, although her performance was toned down and more cheerful than anything she preferred outside of these halls where no one knew them still.

This wasn’t about what she wanted; not for a little while longer, at least.

First they needed to set the mood, to light up what little hope was left within the hearts of these people not yet broken by life or the broadcast. By doing this, the Remnants were able to smoothly betray the little joy Saionji and Mioda brought forth from their hearts, only to see the way their faces broke in half as pure terror took over.

In all of its simple intimacy, it was beautiful. Even more so than what they had seen from Enoshima’s killing game.

After all, these people already knew more than well just what this meant for them, having already seen Enoshima's example. There was no innocence left in the mix as they began to hunt each other down.

Koizumi’s cameras did their job, the blood splatters bright red and contrasting gorgeously against the pale skins of those who had living underground for months, made sick by the lack of clean air. The photos and close-ups of this beauty were something they needed, to be able to show their devotion to whoever might still be resisting.

What happened here really was a small event but, as seen from the massacre of the Student Council of Hope’s Peak Academy and the Tragedy that had then followed, relatively small things can have wide-reaching impact.

Following the same pattern Enoshima had introduced them to, the three Remnants had collected the secrets of those around them. In the cramped confines of the apartment building, it had been an easy thing to listen and adapt with how well-liked they had made themselves among these despairing people still all too willing to have helped someone as young as them.

And when their plan had been put into action, most of them didn’t even need to be directly prompted into participating. They lashed out and killed, simply to protect what little was left of their existence at the end of the world.

Under Enoshima’s influence, they had already more than given up. They had seen too much, been through too much, to fight against it.

Most of them ended up feeling righteous in their despair; releasing everyone around them of their suffering, not unlike to the Remnants watching them do so.

 


	3. No inheritance to speak of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He should have no trouble getting to Enoshima’s eyes.

When the Tragedy had started, Kuzuryuu had used his position to get a hold of weaponry and resources without anyone immediately finding out the heir of the clan was still alive. Similarly to Sonia, he had had the possibility for an army, but he chose to focus on his own abilities first.

It hadn't taken long for him to collect everything left to him, once the Future Foundation made its position known and provided Kuzuryuu, Pekoyama and the rest with the challenge of preventing the organisations efforts from concealing despair.

While those battles were what they had focused on, it was the fall of Enoshima Junko that had Kuzuryuu pace in his room with his fists clenching in an erratic rhythm. Pekoyama watched him fume in his anger and uncontrolled frustration, with both of their eyes swirling in expectation for what needed to be done.

“I want to see her despair! I need to fucking know  _what we are expected to –!_ “

“Then that is what we will do, young master. We go and take the body before anyone else can.”

 

* * *

 

The final trial had ended in a way that had made the world gasp for breath in shared shock and confusion. The fight between hope and despair, the latter to have swallowed Enoshima Junko, was something that had soon overtaken everyone with need for action.

The Remnants closest to Hope’s Peak hurried over immediately after, to stop the new attempts to infiltrate the building and to keep the Future Foundation at bay. While the organisation had already helped Naegi Makoto and the four other survivors of the killing game get away, there was more to protect inside the building itself.

“Imposter and Hanamura are still on standby with their plans, they can’t afford to make an appearance now”, Pekoyama said. She had her sword drawn as she calmly escorted Kuzuryuu towards the Academy, not a hint of worry visible in either of their eyes. “Owari and Nidai are here.”

It was obvious enough that they were, their yells and booming laughter overtaking the courtyard as they fought the armed people who had been attempting to get their hands on everything Enoshima had left behind.

“Tsumiki is with the Imposter but she will be able to assist us once we are done here. She wants the rest of Enoshima’s body, and she has access to what we need”, Pekoyama continued her assessment and Kuzuryuu grunted just as Owari appeared next to them.

“Baby Gangsta! Been a long time, huh!”

“Not long enough…” Kuzuryuu replied and briefly nodded at Nidai who greeted them next, dragging one of their enemies by the neck as he approached.

“We have everything under control, feel free to go in and do what you need to!”

Kuzuryuu continued his walk forward. He didn't even flinch as a man who had been lying on the ground, covered in bruises and blood, sprung up to his feet in a final attempt to slice at him.

But the man barely had time to lift his hand before Pekoyama moved forward in a smooth step, her sword glistening in crimson as the head of the attacker already dropped to the ground and rolled to a stop by Owari’s feet.

There was a beat of silence before Pekoyama straightened. Owari let out a sound of appreciation, with Kuzuryuu still walking on and over the man's beheaded corpse as if nothing had happened.

“Would ya’ look at that!” Owari exclaimed and studied her brass knuckles with a brief disappointment flashing across her face. “Guess I didn’t hit hard enough.”

Nidai scoffed and as the two began to picker on about proper use of force, Kuzuryuu's eyes flickered for a second to look at anything but the door awaiting him. The enforced entrance had been left wide open by those who had escaped the school not that long ago, but it wasn't an inviting sight he realised.

But there was no turning around. He knew what he wanted and would be getting it, too.

“WAIT!”

Kuzuryuu barely paused in his steps at Nidai calling after him, it being Pekoyama who turned around to hear what he had to say.

“There’s someone already waiting for you inside”, Nidai said with his expression unreadable.

“You let someone in?” Pekoyama snapped. He glare was pointed and Kuzuryuu let out a sigh as he glanced their way.

“Didn’t see the problem for as long as he doesn’t do shit”, Nidai replied with a shrug, which was answer enough. Pekoyama’s eyes darkened but before she could say anything more, Kuzuryuu spoke up:

“Pekoyama…”

“Yes?”

“You can stay out here while I clear the scene, I will ask for your help once I have everything ready to get going.”

Pekoyama’s eyes flickered at the door and then back at Kuzuryuu, as if biting her tongue to not argue.

 

* * *

 

“Komaeda.”

“We seem to have come up with the same idea!” Komaeda greeted him from the other side of the entrance hall, a bright smile on his face as he waved at Kuzuryuu. “Do you have anything against me joining you? I know I am not worthy, I don’t come even close to sharing your ideals, but maybe this way I could have some use to you!”

“You want to experience Enoshima’s despair for yourself?”

“I was unable to be here for her death, I feel she owes me an explanation”, Komaeda replied but his words turned cold in a way that made the conflict within him just that much more obvious. The other Remnants had had it easier with the way they had found their devotion, but Kuzuryuu did also understand Komaeda's need to get a final confirmation now that Enoshima wasn’t there to give it to them herself.

Kuzuryuu scoffed without a word, turning to hurry onward but not telling Komaeda to stay back either. The other took this to mean he was invited.

For now, Komaeda was on the side of Despair if only to reach the brightest of hopes by the end of it. With the spreading of despair being the Remnants’ only goal, it made sense for them to not mind his involvement for as long as he didn’t succeed with the final step of his plan. That was the reason why Komaeda had never bothered to hide his own ideals from his classmates; not that he could have anyway, even if he had tried.

“I do appreciate this”, Komaeda hummed to himself as he easily kept up with Kuzuryuu’s long strides. “I had no way inside before Nidai and Owari arrived, I am beyond _useless_ _-!_ “

“Shut it, I’m not here for small talk”, Kuzuryuu snapped as they made their way through the already familiar red door and straight downstairs to the trial grounds.

The remains of Enoshima’s body couldn’t be far, with no one having had the time to clear the scene with the Remnants’ sudden appearance preventing anyone else from getting in after the survivors.

 

* * *

 

There had been a moment of silence as they had watched the pool of blood colouring the ground. Komaeda's brow had twitched in barely concealed emotion that Kuzuryuu didn't bother to even attempt to define, instead taking a step towards the machine that had ended Enoshima's life.

Komaeda followed in his steps, only to briefly pause by the pool of blood before stepping in it. Without a word, they studied the mechanics to find a way to release the body.

They didn't mind the sight or the stench as they focused fully on what they were doing, and it didn't take long for Komaeda to get a hold of the first piece he gleefully pulled free from the rest of the corpse. The flesh let out a sickening snap as it released, the bones and muscle having already come loose from having gotten caught by the sharp corners of the crushing machine.

Komaeda's eyes were bright as he studied the arm, holding it close. Kuzuryuu paused his own study of the remains to look at him, practically cradling the arm with every emotion imaginable seeming to still be flashing through his features.

Kuzuryuu glared at him before asking:

“Where are you going next?”

Komaeda blinked, turning to him with his expression shifting to blank before an empty smile took over. “I was thinking… Towa Island, one of the few to have managed to completely shut themselves away – but not without the right contacts. There is something there Enoshima has left for me to look after, I found.”

“So… You’re going to make sure they can’t continue profiting from our efforts for free, with _this_ now a thing?” Kuzuryuu asked. Vaguely, he gestured at the destroyed trial grounds and Enoshima’s entire influence that had been left in the hands of the Remnants, as far as they knew.

"Something like that", Komaeda said with a shrug, standing up with Enoshima’s hand now held loosely, uncaringly, in his own and almost touching the ground with the tips of her bright-red nails. “I thought I’d watch, for now. I doubt I am needed for much!”

“Right, on the despair side of things, at least”, Kuzuryuu snorted. “And don’t think I care about what happens to _you_ , it's the end of Towa’s pretence I’d be interested in…” He then turned to continue figuring out how to release the rest of Enoshima’s mangled body from the trap it had been caught in, to achieve his own goals.

Thankfully the body seemed to be somewhat intact, if only a bit compressed. He should have no trouble getting to Enoshima’s eyes, not with Tsumiki's help waiting close by.

“Of course! I won't be asking you for anything either, don’t you worry”, Komaeda said and then, without another word, turned to walk away. As he exited the room, he waved the amputated arm back at Kuzuryuu who didn’t spare a glance his way, fully focused on his own inheritance.

The next time they saw one another, none of this mattered anymore. Enoshima’s true influence would have long since been wiped clear from their minds, and cut out of each of their bodies as well.

 


	4. Bite the hand which

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With anyone else, he would have said no – but Enoshima, she was deserving of his full attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll start with this: Thank you for reading! Even with NDR3 causing a bit of delay for this fic… 
> 
> The rating came down from M to T (and number of chapters from 5 to 4) because I realised the truly graphic moments didn’t fit the rest I had already written. But, I might still post oneshots of the deleted scenes to the series! If you want to read them, or have related prompts or something, let me know!

“It is a pleasure, to have you here tonight.”

The man let out a hollow chuckle at the words, baring his teeth in a grin that appeared to be a mere imitation of a look he must have last worn years ago. Despair had long since taken these simple, human gestures away from those left alive.

“Who the hell says that anymore?”

At the man’s harsh reply, his sneer just as obvious as the way he avoided the eyes of his benefactor, they simply smiled and offered him another drink. The man accepted the glass almost begrudgingly, well aware of how rare good alcohol had become.

“Not even the end of the world is a reason to forget our manners”, Togami said as he leaned back in his seat, “don’t you agree?”

The man glared at the glass in his hands, allowing the clear liquid twirl around the edges as he mulled over his next choice of words. Of course he knew better than to annoy his saviour beyond a specific point, but the invitation he had received had left him with a sour taste in his mouth.

Togami never wanted to meet any of the people who served to protect his estate in the corner of a destroyed land, and  knew to expect the worst when it came to the calm presence of a man whose influence seemed to show no sign of dying out even with the Tragedy. Shimuzu was simply using his own arrogance in an attempt to hide his discomfort.

“I hope you don’t mind having dinner with me today”, Togami suddenly said, making Shimuzu’s shoulders hunch up.

Food was a delicacy, and he couldn’t even imagine what someone of Togami’s standards ate even during times like these. Seeing the man’s heavier build and Shimuzu’s own work in securing his resources, it was obvious famine hadn’t affected him yet.

“Of course…” Shimuzu said, lowering his glass without looking up at Togami. “Thank you, sir.”

It was almost immediate, hearing the door to the next room open as a serving trolley was rolled inside. Through the coloured glass door, Shimuzu saw multiple dishes being meticulously arranged over the large table.

Shimuzu didn’t know why the distorted sight made him feel ill, but he had to tear his eyes away and look at Togami instead. But Togami simply smiled, making him feel even worse in the foreboding silence.

Two minutes later, the door was finally opened. The short, clean-shaven chef politely invited them in for their dinner that Shimuzu saw absolutely no reason for them to be having, and the two men entered the room without a word.

 

* * *

 

There is heart wrenching simplicity to despair shared with a single individual, as there is to methods that appear to lack the Ultimate Despair’s usual, worldwide flourish. Each of them learned this on their own, experimenting with their ideas.

With poison, for example, one can take out their victims either indirectly or with the most gruesome of effects in play. If anything, Hanamura relished the look of bliss on his guests’ faces as they tasted his dishes, mere moments before their heaven in the midst of the burning world became turned around into something worse than they could have ever expected.

Hanamura used his poisons the same he used his cooking, to see the impact of it reach his target’s stomach. There was intimacy in having them take in the taste of his creation, only to soon realise that it was _the literal end_ that this smirking chef had brought to their plate.

Hanamura would never ruin his dishes; he would never add in something that would damage their taste.

His cooking was always a gift, a show of utter talent. The so-called poison was nothing more than a release for those who got a taste of it, an eye-opening experience at the final leg of their road. Being freed of the world’s horrors wasn’t a curse.

And there was even more truth to that statement if you consider that death wasn’t the immediate aim of the recipe Hanamura had used on that day. The man still had places to be and, most importantly, a nurse to visit.

 

* * *

 

Tsumiki giggled at the photos as they flashed through the screen, cheerfully clapping her hands together at the dark scenery filled with men and women of all ages ripping each other apart. Looking closely, you could see large felines circling the crowd, ripping the dead into nothing but entrails and blood on the ground.

Sonia’s army had become a glorious sight and the vibrant colours could only be conveyed all thanks to Koizumi’s talent in photographing it all. The combination of these three Ultimates’ skill, with Souda also somewhere in the background but not really in his best form as of late, was a spectacular thing –

One of which Tsumiki had wanted to show her latest companion.

“Shimuzu, hey…”

The man’s eyes were wide, held open by the needles and the apparatus on the ceiling as he was forced to take in the full impact of the photos and their frozen, crimson sceneries.

“My darling, would she have liked this, would she?” Tsumiki murmured and leaned over his form with a smile sweeter than he had ever seen. Shimuzu had never felt so terrified in his life, and it was for a good reason.

“Would she be pleased, do you think…? Not entirely, right, not enough… We need to go deeper, yes, need to do more?” Tsumiki continued on, her palm held over Shimuzu’s chest and pressing down with strength he would not have expected her to possess. “I need to be more worthy, and you will help me… Won’t you, Shimuzu, you will, don’t you…”

There it was, her hand crushing down on his lungs and leaving him with nothing but the awareness over his inability to gasp for breath; too terrified to even consider speaking and begging for mercy, even if the sedatives and relaxants used on him hadn’t made it impossible to move his tongue.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to turn his head. He wanted to close his eyes at the sting of tears flowing down his cheeks and drippling off of his chin with a sickening path left behind.

He wanted to forget where he was and what had brought him here, he didn’t want to see what would be coming next.

And still, somehow, when Tsumiki reached her free hand forward almost carefully, the touch of her fingers impossibly soft as she wiped at the tears on his face, the sensation was made even worse. Shimuzu knew he wasn’t allowed anything but the obvious:

With no way out of the room and no way to fight the needles Tsumiki picked up from his side, he could only let the tears flow as the pain traveled through him in paralyzing waves. Or, so he would have done if there hadn’t been the _ring, sharp and out of place._

Immediately at hearing it, Tsumiki’s arms dropped to her sides. She turned to the phone that used the few networks still working.

Shimuzu’s eyes followed her movements to the best of his ability, the flashing photos on the screen opposite blinding against his retinas. Tsumiki’s form grew rigid, tilted, contracted as she studied whatever message she had just been sent.

She looked giddy, unable to hold herself up on her feet.

“O-oh… I can see you again, could I see you again, my beloved…”

Tsumiki turned, not glancing Shimuzu’s way but walking up to a curtain on the opposite wall instead. Pulling the sheets out of the way, she stepped up to a cooler and collapsed next to its side, caressing its surface with a blissful, almost mockingly  _hopeful_ smile that had split her face in half.

Her dark eyes were focused on something Shimuzu couldn’t see, hugging the cooler as she appeared to shake in anticipation. It looked like she was cradling something precious, someone who held absolute power over her.

“I will give everything, anything, to have you back in the world of your own creation… It is yours, it is yours…”

It was on that moment Shimuzu realised; the terror he had previously felt had been nothing in comparison to what overtook his mind now. From the depths of his very self, he managed to let out a choking breath, alerting Tsumiki’s eyes to slowly turn his way.

There was no light to her gaze, her smile predatory yet filled with a level of admiration Shimuzu had never before witnessed. He knew it wasn’t meant for him, not directed his way.

But what truly mattered was what else he _knew_ ; Shimuzu was no longer needed.

He decided to consider it a blessing when Tsumiki’s form finally rose from the floor, haltingly so like a hatchling walking for the very first time, reaching over to take a hold of his throat.

 

* * *

 

While Kamukura had been watching the events unfold with a loose sense of participation, Servant’s role in the downfall of Towa Island had been much more prominent. There was a familiar sense of tiresome numbness to the Servant’s state by the end of it all, but it didn’t change the fact that he was more than willing to listen when the other Remnants shared the call to turn themselves in.

“And you were told this by…?” Servant asked, playing with the chain hanging from his neck as he did. He focused on its weight continuously pulling at his head, barely registering Souda’s groan from the other end of the line.

Who knows how Souda had ended up being the one ordered to let _Komaeda_ in on their plan, but it was clear that the mechanic wasn’t any closer to being a fan of his than he had been before. Despair hadn’t changed that part of him, and Servant could more than understand.

“ _I_ was told by Koizumi, who got the call from who the fuck knows – _come on!_ You know as much as I do now, we’re done here.”

Servant let out a small chuckle just as Souda hung up on him, leaving him to hum under his breath as he tried to work out the true meaning of the words he had heard. And he, just like the rest of them even if Souda hadn't wanted to say anything, knew exactly which _elusive shadow_  among their kind had made the move they were more than willing to follow.

The Remnants were to turn themselves in, to take their chances at getting back the one who had scattered them across these lands. With anyone else, he would have said no – but Enoshima, she was deserving of his full attention.

Only true despair could bring hope, and her match with Naegi Makoto had clearly not done its job just yet. There was more to come, there had to be, and Servant was going to live up to his name to see it through to the end.

 

* * *

 

After having collected Enoshima’s AI and ensured that the rest of the Remnants would follow her design, by first contacting the one who had loved her the most, Kamukura was once more reminded of the question that had brought him here:

Hope or despair, what he was made and what he became; would either one of them exist through the next step of the plan.

Waking up and sharing a darkened, swaying space with someone he felt he should have known but didn’t, not beyond his role as a Remnant, Kamukura knew he was a step closer to the answers that were the only thing left for him. The boat would take them to the one place that could help solve it all, and he truly found himself curious to see just how it would all play out.

Briefly, he noted that it was almost a shame he wouldn't have the chance to be there himself - which he had more than planned for, of course. It was Hinata who had to play the role of an outsider, to ensure an outcome not impacted by Kamukura’s lack of self.

 

* * *

 

Afterwards, when Kamukura was done screaming his lungs out and found himself sharing the Neo World Program’s pod with an entity that wasn’t _him_ , there was wonder in the possibilities he had been granted. Based on what he was told about the Program, it seemed like Enoshima hadn’t been all that right about most things she had left behind, after all.

Despair, in its uncoordinated nature, had been almost childishly easy to lead astray. Through that, Kamukura had more than learned predictability to be a concept that had never truly existed; not in despair nor in hope.

One day, years later, Kamukura would find himself with the confidence to say that he really, truly was pleased to see Enoshima be wrong when it came to the two flip sides of that specific rule of the world _._ Hope and despair were both made out of chaos, as is every aspect of the everyday life.

There actually was some peace to be found in that, Hinata would then think before letting out an annoyed sigh.

 


End file.
